


Arana

by Senora_Luna



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bros helping bros, Ernesto is as HORRIBLE a friend as in canon but still pretty bad, I'm so sorry Coco fandom, Mature for themes but nothing really explicit, This Is STUPID, i blame discord, just bros bein bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 23:57:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senora_Luna/pseuds/Senora_Luna
Summary: Ernesto contemplates if there is a painless way to end his best friend's life if he must do the unthinkable. However, things spiral out of control.(I am sorry this is the most RIDICULOUS thing I have ever written and solely due to the Coco Discord. Only read for a bizarre laugh.)





	Arana

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Discord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Discord/gifts).



> I'm so sorry this is my first contribution to this glorious fandom.

Arana

 

          _“I have this…problem…a horse I may have to put down-but I want it to be painless! Pleasant, if possible?”_

_“Oh si Senor, I have a wonderful product from Brazil…”_

            When Ernesto had inquired after such products, confidence surged through him-his mission clear and his conviction unwavering. Now, several hours later, he sat on the rickety cot of a cheap hotel room staring at the small jar he had purchased, its contents supposedly to fix all of his problems. Hector had agreed on extending their musical tour to Mexico City-but every night the man’s enthusiasm wavered further. It was pitiful honestly, the amount Hector was absolutely emasculated, and obsessed (in Ernesto’s option) by that vicious wife of his. And the naïve man had become even more enchanted when their daughter was born.

            In the past the two best friends had spent hours going on about music, concerts, changing the world! Now they couldn’t get one drink in without Hector bringing up how much he missed his damn family. It has been much better when he had Hector to himself-the two compadres-no obnoxious wife or children to come between them.

            Sadly though, that time was over, hence why he continued to stare at the jar contemplating what he was doing. In the crowded shop lined street of Mexico City, an elderly woman claiming to sell products for every need (baldness, infertility, bad romance, and so on) had promised him within the jar was the kind of potion he could use to create a painless death. But this was madness-to kill his best friend!

            Perhaps he could play on Hector’s suspicions; Ernesto stood with conviction slamming a fist into his own palm-that was it! The woman stressed if he wanted an effective poison he must grind the product and see the entirety consumed. Meaning a smaller dosage would leave his dear foolish friend sick-sick enough to see God was punishing him for daring to leave behind musica when it was clearly a divine blessing. Ernesto felt a surge of brilliance, and relaxation settle over him. With his conscience and ambitious appeased, he was able to recline on the rickety cot for a needed amount of beauty sleep until Hector arrived. His foolish friend usually spent all his time in cafes writing tediously long letters to his wife and would not stumble in until the early morning.

            Hector Rivera was indeed homesick, after finishing his latest letter that evening the pain had struck such a cord in his heart he knew the only option was to return home to Santa Cecilia. The only problem was he didn’t know how he would manage to tell Ernesto. All he could think was how much he wanted to see his family-so much so he didn’t pay attention to the jar beside the oil lamp which fell to the ground with a shatter.

            Ernesto shot up from his bed, and Hector made a small yelp leaping back from the broken pieces.

            “Lo Siento, I broke something,” Hector tried to whisper as if it somehow would help his already awoken friend.

            “What time is it…I thought you were only going to stay there an hour.” Ernesto grumbled.

            “Uh…” Hector struggled to come with another excuse, having said he was going to get to bed at a reasonable hour so he wouldn’t forget guitar cords once again during a performance. “Now about thAH-!” Whatever he was about to say was cut off with a yelp-and Ernesto watched his gangly friend leap atop the bed as though he were a small child having found a monster in the dark.

            “What the hell!?” Ernesto gasped nearly taking a foot to the face.

            “Arana! Grande!” Hector managed to sputter.

            “Ay dios mio…” Ernesto groaned pushing Hector to sit upon the cot. “You save cockroaches, moths, even ants from my boot but we see a damn cobweb and suddenly I have a little nina in the room…”

            “Ernesto you don’t understand it was ENORMOUS!” Growled Hector as he shook the larger man by the shoulders.

            “You said that last time and it turned out to be a button.” Snapped his disgruntled friend. Twisting on the oil lamp Ernesto scanned the dusty straw covered floor-with no sight of any living creature-only the remaining fragments of his jar. With a curse under his breath, he contemplated momentarily if this was his own divine punishment or sign from God his intentions had been ill thought. “I don’t see any arana Hector.”

            “Mira mira it bit me!” Hector snapped lifting one his long legs to the oil lamp where they were both able to observe a large red welt swelling upon his ankle. Ernesto cringed at the sight-so for once his overdramatic friend wasn’t being _entirely_ overdramatic.

            “Eh…well sleep on it, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

            “Nothing!? It looks like my foot is going to fall off-I have to suck out the poison!”

            “If you get your foot to your mouth we should reconsider our act.”

            “ERNESTO CAN YOU BE SERIOUS ABOUT THIS?!” Hector sputtered.

            “Ay Hector can _you_ manage to behave like a man and not a frightened nina!?” He hissed in response, “You’re going to wake the entire city! Silencio I’ll get some ice…”

            “Rapido por favor,” wheezed Hector as he made a meek attempt to bring his foot to his mouth before toppling over on the bed. Suddenly he went silent-something rare about the man which caused Ernesto to look back at him curiously.

            “Have you calmed yourself diva?”

            “Uh…It seems the prospect of death thrills me.” Hector muttered in low, seemingly embarrassed voice.

            “Que?” Ernesto took a step toward the man only to do a double startled take by the evident sign of arousal, painfully noticeable despite the tight mariachi trousers. “…Did your life flash before your eyes with some really interesting highlights…” he snickered.

            “C-allate.” Stammered Hector roughly hurling the pillow at Ernesto which he caught with further laughter.

            “Hector I had no idea that your interests were so macabre.” The glare from Hector only caused the smallest twinge of guilt, for the situation was just too humorous. Now spending time as amigos growing up together, and then on the road together the pair of men had seen one another in all states. Normally, the shoe was on the other foot-Hector neglecting to hear the sounds outside the door and finding Ernesto with a fan (the following day filled with plenty of mocking). It was on a rare occasion Ernesto had his revenge if catching Hector thinking of his wife (the man was painfully monogamous despite Ernesto’s urging Imelda couldn’t kill him for what she didn’t know). But this was just incredibly funny, one moment screaming about bugs-the next looking as though he’d be caught in bed.

            “I’m going…to el bano...” Hector managed through gritted teeth as he adjusted his trousers and awkwardly made is way to the door.

            “I’ll have to write Imelda, tell her aranas are the key to more children in her marriage.” The only response Ernesto received was the loud slam of the door. Once he managed to calm his laughter, his eyes fell once more on the shattered jar. Scooping up the large shards, Ernesto’s eyes looked about for a potential herb, or power, or even wet spot for the contents. Especially after the reminder of how endearing his friend was-Ernesto wasn’t keen on seeing him accidently die. After a moment of searching he began to wonder if he was scammed.by the old woman for there was no evidence of the jar’s contents to be found. Searching for the lid he cursed himself for not opening it at the time of sale-for all he knew the crone sold him a container of air which she considered to be a curse.

Suddenly, his hand came upon the lid beneath the night stand-it was sticky, which he upon examination in the light, seemed to be webbing. Now Ernesto was not always the sharpest, but as he sat on the hotel room floor, and contemplated the last ten minutes the pieces came together-literally-to make sense of the situation. It was barely beginning to make sense when the door burst open to a very flustered, flushed, and concerned looking Hector.

“Uh-…Ernesto, something is going on which I do not understand!” Hector shut the door frantically and leaned against it seeming still as worked up as when he left.

“I thought you were going to-“

“I did!”

“And it’s still-“

“Yes-Painfully!”

“Maybe because it has been so long-“

“Four times Ernesto-four times and nothing is changing!”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or alarmed-“

“It is time to be alarmed!”

“Do not worry we will pen a letter to Imelda and if this is still a problem in a week then she will not be angry having taken a week long train over her husband’s insatiable tent.” Ernesto said with a sarcastic sigh.

“You. Are. Not. Helping.” Hector seethed through his teeth.

“Ay amigo it’s clear you need a woman’s touch we find a woman-“

“Ernesto!”

“You said help-I am trying to help!”

“I would _never_ betray Imelda!”

“Well then what do you mean by help!” Ernesto paused, his mind wandering to a much more explicit place. There had been plenty of times as children the pair had “practiced” together, stressing they had to learn how the mechanics of intimacy and pleasure worked if they were going to have any luck with women. It excited him a moment-this was the way to get Hector to stay! Remind him that his best friend could be just as fulfilling as his wife. However his hopes were dashed when Hector spoke again-sounding further strained.

“Talk to me of things which are not arousing in the least…”

“Well I would go on about aranas but it appears your stance is changing on them-“

“I am not in the mood for jokes Ernesto!” Hector choked.

“Si si…” He hesitated-perhaps this symptom of Hector’s was his inability to leave-an unquenchable passion for the _music_ for his dearest _amigo._ Yes this was a sign from the Heavens! A very direct arrow to what he must do! Ernesto reclined on cot once again, seeming nonchalant as Hector muttered something about trying to consider his Abuelita. As smoothly as he could, he removed his undershirt, “It is warm isn’t it?”

“Obviously.” Hector snapped.

“Perhaps you would feel better if you found a way to cool down Hector.”

“I do not think less clothing would make this situation any better Ernesto.” He nearly growled. Of all the times to be aloof, his ridiculous “amigo” (he was doubting that right now) was choosing now while he was clearly experiencing some kind of illness. “Um maybe if I think of my…Abuelita smacking me with a wooden spoon on the back of the head-or um-Padre Diego yelling at us at mass-warning us about our immortal souls suffering for an eternity if we did not behave ourselves-haha remember that-…oh God I just committed four sins in a row.” Hector added with a note of hysteria in his pained smile.

“Hector you are spiraling, come come sit down-perhaps if I massage your shoulders-“

“…Are you _flexing_ Ernesto?”

“Oh-I did not realize you were staring at my muscles Hector.” Came the forcibly casual reply. The look Hector gave him was as though he would explode.

“Can we focus on ME for a moment.” Hector snapped.

“Hector mi amigo, I am thinking of you! I am thinking this does not have to be the problem you are seeing it as.”

“You can not be serious Ernesto.”

“Hector I am perfectly serious maybe your desires right now are more obvious than you realize-and…your inability to be satisfied is you ignoring the one thing you are craving.” Ernesto made a so very staged yawn raising his muscular arms above his head. A moment later he let out a choking cough as Hector’s shoe smacked him in the stomach. “Hector!”

“You’re trying to seduce me!?” Hector nearly screamed hopping on one shoeless foot.

“Uh-amigo I-

“I know your _MOVES_ Ernesto!”

“Ay well-then maybe you should be honest about what you want!”

“What I WANT!? WHAT I WANT!?” Hector’s voice nearly cracked. “I want to get rid of this _plancha-“_

“Well then we should-“

“NOT by rolling around with you!” Hector’s eye nearly twitched in his frustration.

“Oh.” Ernesto huffed folding his arms. “Well honestly Hector I am offended you think I am incapable of handling your needs after all we have been through.”

“Oh you can NOT be serious Ernesto, take your damn pride and shove it-AH!” Hector let out another shriek leaping to the small excuse of a dining table they had in the corner.

“Que-que-!?” However Ernesto did not need to inquire further for he the noticed the massive spider crawling across the dusty floor toward the door. “Que Dios it is massive.”

“I told you!” Hector gasped. “And I do not want to hear another joke about attractions to aranas!”  Ernesto paused, the woman’s words that the death would come in a pleasurable manner dawned on. He sank down on the cot running a hand over his face-that woman had also been selling “Fertility Charms” and “Staminia Charms”…so this was the pleasurable means to die. Ernesto quickly stood on the bed than to chance risking it. Could Hector be dying-dying via desire? What an envious way to go out Ernesto briefly contemplated, before recalling if it was to kill then he would have had to grind up the creature to a powder so all the poison was ingested.

“Quickly-kill it Hector!”

“Kill it!? It is the size of my head!”

“Use your shoe stupido!”

“What if I miss!?”

“What if it crawls up the table!” This reminder made Hector’s eyes nearly bulge from his skull-as he hurriedly yanked off his other shoe.  

“God if you help me here I promise I will never sin again.” Hector whimpered and then violently threw the shoe toward the massive arachnid. Both of the grown men cheered as though they had observed an incredible futbol victory-the spider vanquished with a sudden crunching splat. Hector sank down on the table as though he would faint from relief, and the last thing he heard was Ernesto calling his name.

After the ordeal, and strange circumstances, an awkward air lingered between the pair causing them to cancel some of their next few shows. Ernesto decided what Hector didn’t know about the spider’s origins was best, and perhaps it was best that just his pride that had been sorely wounded from that evening. It seemed they had made a silent agreement not to discuss it, until Hector, a week later, addressed him on a painfully tedious train ride.

“I never did thank you, for um, the help that evening with the arana.”

“Oh…no problemo.” Ernesto said coolly despite the blush he felt in his cheeks.

“I uh appreciate the sentiment and if I were not married I would have been more flattered.”

“Si si I know you are prisoner to Imelda.”

“Ernesto.” Hector began reproachfully.

“I kid.”

“You do not.”

“Si I do not. But ay, I suppose it is good you have such commitment to marriage most men seem only to suffer through it-you are one of the first to adore it.” The sentiment was surprising and Hector for a moment considered thanking his friend for his new found empathy until he opened his mouth once more. “Let us see if she had the same adoration for you upon learning about your new-found love for aranas.”

“Don’t you _dare.”_

“Maybe she will keep a tarantula on the bed side to keep your marriage bed active.”

“Ernesto I will literally throw your guitar off this train.”

“Do not be embarrassed I will tell her for you-.” Hector reached for the man’s instrument, as the pair began a mocking scuffle, Hector crying out to God to please allow the rest of the life to be free of spiders.


End file.
